


the sith lord's wife

by tashii



Category: Star Wars Sequel Trilogy
Genre: Alternate Universe - Medieval, Arranged Marriage, Corsetry, F/M, Size Difference, Virginity Kink, the good stuff, you know
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-06-18
Packaged: 2021-02-23 04:57:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,578
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23239318
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tashii/pseuds/tashii
Summary: Her heart raced, and her temples throbbed with anxiety. She hadn’t seen Lord Ren in months, not since their wedding night.
Relationships: Ben Solo | Kylo Ren/Rose Tico, Kylo Ren/Rose Tico
Comments: 79
Kudos: 103





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> In these difficult times, we all need a good ol' fashioned bodice ripper Y/Y
> 
> I ran out of reading material within two days of social distancing and stumbled on a tropey web novel called "Under the Oak Tree" that got me thirsty for a similar premise but with the ultimate tol and smol: Kylose. This is English medieval fantasy with a dash of Asian historical fantasy - so, basically Star Wars but not in space. There's Knights and Ladies, but also an Emperor. Yavin is a kingdom, not a planet. Hays Minor is a neighboring kingdom. Most importantly, Kylo and Rose are married and HOT. I'm not entirely happy with this, but I had fun and hopefully you will too :P
> 
> P.S: In case anyone's wondering, Rose's grandfather really is named Storm Tico.

“Stop fidgeting, child.”

Rose flushed at her grandfather’s stern command, unclenching her fingernails from the soft flesh of her palm. Storm Tico’s grey eyes were cold, and he released her wrist with contempt. “You are the wife of a Sith Lord, now. Do try and act the part.”

“Sorry, grandfather,” she mumbled, walking to the window in her waiting chamber through which the skies of Yavin were curdled grey. The window overlooked a courtyard currently teeming with Knights of the Imperial Guard and their squires. Rubbing her wrist, she searched for a glimpse of her husband but couldn’t spot him - unusual, since Kylo Ren, now Lord Ren, always stood out in crowds.

“I don’t need to remind you of the precarious position in which we now find ourselves,” Storm Tico said behind her. Rose turned to where her grandfather was pouring himself a cup of wine. As he lifted the silver bottle in one hand, his other delicately folded the edge of his billowing grey sleeve. The restrained refinement he carried in his bones was yet another harsh reminder to Rose of the chasm her sister Paige left behind. Paige was elegance personified, the beautiful granddaughter Storm cherished, while Rose with her apple cheeks and fumbling ways was an afterthought at best.

“Yes, grandfather,” she said, folding her hands inside her sleeves and bowing her head in the respectful manner he preferred. Her neck hurt from the weight of jeweled pins currently supporting her elaborate braided hair.

“He’s a lowly Knight no longer. Lord Ren now has command of the Imperial Knights and the Praetorian Guard. Should he wishes -,”

“He can call for a divorce and end our agreement,” Rose finished, repeating the words that Storm had drilled into her head ever since they received word that Ren had successfully led his first campaign, storming the Hutt stronghold and slaying their leader before seizing their spoils. She knew her grandfather hated being interrupted, but there were times she couldn’t help herself. Beneath the surface of her demureness was a simmering core of anger that she sometimes feared would burst from her body and singe the air around her, leaving only an empty shell behind.

Storm closed the distance between them, peering down at her from his height. The willowy Tico stature was another trait Rose had sadly not inherited. “Stand up straight,” he hissed. “If Lord Ren calls for a divorce, it is not just you and I that will suffer. Hays Minor will lose the right to trade with Yavin and their allies and be at the mercy of smugglers and mercenaries. Thousands will starve,” he added, a glint in his eyes as he relished the impact of his words. “We don’t want that, do we Rose?”

“No, grandfather,” she demurred, looking away so he wouldn’t see the anger flashing in her gaze. As governor of Hays Minor, Storm Tico had been a wealthy man before rising in the ranks at the Court of the Sith, and he would be a wealthy man if her marriage was dissolved tomorrow. But what he prized was influence, a position close to the seat of power from which he could whisper his desires into the right ears. And being grandfather to Lord Ren’s wife, an advisor to the court, outstripped any prestige he could claim as governor of a small province, no matter how wealthy.

“Whatever he asks of you, whatever he desires, you will comply without question. Is that understood?”

“Yes, grandfather,” Rose said, her eyes burning a hole in the floor.

When he moved away she sank into a chair. Her heart raced, and her temples throbbed with anxiety. She hadn’t seen Lord Ren in months, not since their wedding night.

* * *

_Rose urged her horse faster along the curving plains. Sun washed over her as she tilted her chin to the rolling blue sky. A laugh burst from her chest. She loved riding more than anything in the world. Between the rushing wind and thundering hooves she felt powerful, untouchable. Free._

_It was nearly dusk when she returned home flushed and exultant from the exercise - and found the household in chaos._

_Her sister, Paige, was gone._

_Their grandfather was beside himself. He had only recently arranged for Paige to marry a young Knight in Yavin, in the court of the Emperor. Beautiful, elegant Paige was their family’s best hope for a better future, as Storm had repeated to the Tico sisters ever since taking them into his home after their parents’ death. But the girls knew what he meant: they owed him a debt for raising them that they could never repay. A month before Paige's flight, Rose held her sister in her arms as Paige tried to muffle her sobs after Storm announced he had arranged a marriage for her. Rose knew Paige was unhappy about the match, but she’d never imagined her sister would run away._

_Not only had Paige absconded, but she’d done so with a commoner - their stableman, Poe._

_“There’s nothing for it,” Storm said bitterly, once his rage had simmered into cold, resentful determination. “You will take your sister’s place.”_

_Rose felt her throat close up in panic. She looked frantically at her grandmother Etta, who gave Rose a pained, tearful smile. Etta loved and doted on the girls, but was powerless against her husband’s ambitions._

_here was no more horseback riding after that. Rose was cooped up with seamstresses hastening to refit Paige’s wedding clothes to fit her shorter sister. When she wasn’t being prodded and poked she was being instructed in the codes of wifely conduct by her grandmother. Numbed and dazed from the rapid changes, Rose went along with the new order of things too depleted at the end of each day to do more than fall into exhausted sleep. It wasn’t until she finally stole a moment of freedom and hastened to the stables that the blow fell._

_In preparation for the household moving south to Yavin, Storm had sold away all their horses, including Dorian, the horse that Rose had raised since he was a colt, her father’s last gift to her before his death._

_Rose cried so long and so deeply she fainted and had to be carried to her room. Storm admonished her for ruining her face with tears while Etta stroked her head. But Rose heard nothing, she felt nothing. She was empty of everything that defined her, and prayed that she would die in her sleep._

* * *

  
  
_They went by ship, and she was seasick for nearly the entire voyage. The journey to Yavin was a blur. They arrived on the appointed wedding day and Rose was quickly whisked off for preparations._

_They had still received no word from Paige, and as they draped the refitted wedding robes around Rose’s shoulders, she wondered numbly if her sister was happy, wherever she was._

_In the mirror they led her to, she hardly recognized herself. She was swathed in stiff, gold silk and beaded lace, the gown narrowing at her waist and flaring prettily over her hips. A long, rich train swept behind her, and her face was veiled in gossamer silk and fresh roses. The attendants Storm had hired exclaimed over her beauty, but Rose only saw a fumbling girl, playing dress-up in her big sister’s clothes._

* * *

_The ceremony was painfully long._

_She was vaguely aware of the tall, black-clad figure of her betrothed beside her, but the veil obscured her vision, and he was only a dim outline until the vows were pronounced and Kylo Ren lifted the cloth over her headdress to glimpse his bride._

_She looked her new husband full in the face, and stifled a gasp._

_He was quite ugly._

_Having read her share of romance scrolls, and listened to enough ballads, Rose knew that Knights were universally regarded as handsome, full of charm and chivalry. The Sith Knight before her was young, and tall and strong as a tree. But his pale face was a tragedy of elongated angles and animalic excess. She had the impression of dark, moody eyes, a nose broken and rehealed too many times to hold any elegance, a mouth like a red slash. The only pleasing attribute he possessed was his hair, thick and black around his somber face. She wondered if those locks had the feel of a horse’s mane between her fingers, then blushed furiously at the unbidden, unwelcome thought._

_If Ren was displeased by her appearance he revealed nothing, leading her stiffly from the wedding dais through the hall of gathered courtiers. They received Emperor Snoke's blessing and Rose, who had never glimpsed the reptilian old man up close, shivered at the sight of his ruined, ancient face. Beside her, she felt Ren’s grip tighten on her arm. As they moved towards the bridal table he gave her a sharp, curious look._

_They had no moment for private conversation. The Emperor had ordered a lavish feast to celebrate the wedding of one of his most promising young knights, and the court was flush with wine. Storm Tico practically floated about the room, smiling and shaking hands with the gathered nobility. Her grandfather’s enjoyment made Rose’s stomach turn - he’d bought his way to the Sith court with her life._

_Her appetite was absent and the rich food made her ill. She nibbled at some fruit and bread but drank deeply of the honey wine. On her third glass she noticed Ren watching her, a dark eyebrow arched as she refilled her goblet. Naturally, his own appetite suffered no qualms. Her grandmother had told Rose that men relished the marital act while women endured it. No doubt Ren would avail himself of this prerogative shortly. Every law in the land decreed that she now belonged to him._

* * *

_While the men drank late into the night, Rose was led to the bridal chamber along with her handmaidens. Swiftly, they relieved her of the heavy wedding gown and stripped her naked before rubbing her head to toe in fragrant oil. Her hair was loosened from its braids and brushed vigorously until it cascaded down her back. She was permitted to wear a soft silk chemise and gold-embroidered robe tied loosely at her waist - two garments that left little to the imagination._

_Satisfied that she was ready, the handmaids filtered out, whispering as they went. Despite their tittering and sly remarks Rose was sorry to see them go. She was alone now in the great chamber with nothing but her thoughts and the looming, curtained bed where she and her new husband-_

_The thought wouldn't bear finishing._

_As the second daughter she’d always imagined Paige’s marriage would ease her own path, perhaps even allow her to choose her husband when it was time. She would have liked someone handsome and gentle who loved horses as much as she, who would kiss her tenderly and tell her she was beautiful._

_She thought back to the day Paige ran away, and that afternoon ride across the plains, the wind in her hair and her whole life ahead of her. Her chest ached. She should have relished her freedom more._

_It wasn’t until the door latched close behind him she grew aware that Kylo Ren had entered the room._

* * *

_She had half hoped he’d be too drunk to bother with her tonight, but as he went about the room extinguishing each candle between his fingers, she realized with dismay that he was perfectly sober._

_Rose drew herself up, feeling suddenly unsteady on her feet._

_She shouldn't have had so much wine at supper._

_He put a single candle down on the small table where the handmaids had left a carafe of wine, some fruit, and curiously a jar of soft yam paste._

_Remembering her coaching, Rose hastened to the table. “Let me,” she mumbled, trying to pour him some wine. But her hands trembled, the wine sloshing over the goblet. “Sorry, sorry!” She hastened to wipe up the mess, her vision blurring with embarrassment when a large hand swooped over her wrist, halting her frantic motions._

_“I don’t want any wine,” he said. The deep timbre of his voice was almost gauche._

_Flushed and miserable, Rose couldn’t meet his eyes. He was taller even than her grandfather, and broad besides. He had removed his ceremonial robes and wore only a simple black tunic over his breeches, yet the width of his chest and shoulders and the powerful trunks of his legs were terribly imposing. Why oh why couldn’t her Knight have been a slender, aristocratic ideal like the scrolls and ballads promised? Why must she be tied to this hulking monster? For the first time since she fled, Rose discovered a twinge of anger towards her sister._

_Ren extended a hand that she was obliged to take, her fingers nearly disappearing inside his large palm._

_He led her towards the bed but paused before either of them could climb in, looking down at their joined hands. Rose was trembling._

_“Do I frighten you?” he asked, sounding merely curious._

_“No,” she said, a hint of defiance in her tone. When he regarded her with surprise, Rose cast her eyes down in a show of shyness._

_Well, not entirely a show. She’d kissed a boy or two but none of them quite like her new husband. The yawning intimacy of what they were about to do rushed at her like waves, threatening to swallow her up. “I think - I think I would like some wine,” she blurted in an effort to forestall the inevitable._

_She turned back to the table but Ren’s arm stopped her, drawing her easily against his chest. His voice rumbled with a trace of amusement. “I think you’ve had enough already.”_

_Rose had seen horses who, when cornered or afraid, reacted blindly against their own best interest. She felt like such a creature now. Kylo Ren’s arm was a lethal, unseen danger and the goblet of wine her savior. Her feet left the ground as Ren lifted her easily, carrying her towards the bed. Rose panicked further, kicking and flailing. He grunted when a tiny foot caught him in the shin and they tumbled into bed, limbs tangled together._

_With his hard body pressing her into the mattress, reality flooded through her. “You kicked me,” her husband said._

_Ren eased his weight to one side, peering down at her. She wondered what he saw, her tangled hair, her face always too child-like, too fervent, nothing like Paige’s moonbeam beauty._

_“I’m not going to hurt you, Rose,” he said. In that heavy voice, from those fleshy lips, her name took on a foreign, frightening character. Like it belonged to someone else, someone running ahead of her while she stumbled behind._

_“You have to,” she said, reminding him of his duty and hers._

_He gave her an unreadable look, searching her face in the candlelight. His free hand cupped her knee and travelled beneath her nightgown. Rose held her breath when his fingers skimmed her thigh. Her body curled instinctively, like a frightened shellfish._

_Kylo sighed, sliding off the bed in a smooth, swift motion surprising for one so tall and thickly muscled. She watched him disappear into his dressing chamber and reemerge with a small dagger in hand._

_Her brain kicked into action too late. Before she could move, he’d seized her ankle and drawn her to the edge of their bed. His knee kept her legs apart._

_“Hold still,” he ordered. She gasped when he nicked his palm and smeared blood on the hem of her nightgown, along her thigh._

_“So the Emperor is satisfied,” he explained curtly._

_“The Emperor...of course,” Rose mumbled, all the fight gone out of her, watching Kylo press a smudge of blood to the sheet._

_He put the dagger away and sucked on his palm. His ruddied mouth both repulsed and fascinated her._

_“You aren’t going to...?” her voice trailed off and shame overcame her. She felt like a chastised child, marked with blood that wasn’t hers, feet dangling off the edge of their bed_

_He gave her a strange, intent look. “Goodnight, Rose.”_

* * *

_He spent the night in his chambers adjoining the bridal room while Rose slept fitfully on a bed much too large for a single body. In the morning, she learned that Kylo Ren and a band of Knights had already departed for the northern borders. Her handmaids remarked on the bloodstains with satisfaction and quickly whisked off her nightgown and sheet - the items would be displayed to the Emperor in a private audience with her grandfather as proof of her chastity._

_Rose accepted their playful teasing and salutations with a hollow smile. She couldn’t shake the feeling that she’d failed, that Paige would never have bungled her wifely duty so shamefully. More than ever, she felt like an imposter._

* * *

Her grandfather was wrong - the situation was more dire than he imagined. Not only was Kylo now a Lord Commander worthy of choosing a superior bride, but their marriage was unconsummated, which meant she could be tossed aside with a simple word. She wanted to pound her head. What a childish fool she’d been, letting Kylo Ren leave without consummation. Paige would have ensured her marriage was legitimate. Paige wouldn’t have been so frightened, would have drunk less honey wine. Paige would have taken Lord Ren in hand and led him alluringly to their bridal bed, and in so doing secured their family’s future, and the future of Hays Minor. Why oh why had her sister abandoned them in their hour of need?

As always, her anger at Paige’s absence was swiftly engulfed in the confusion and pain of missing her sister, her best friend. She hadn’t heard a word from Paige since she disappeared with her handsome stableman. Rose wished she could write to her, begging for advice like when they were girls. _Help, how do I get my husband to deflower me?_

The tight bodice and her frayed nerves made it difficult to breathe. She caught sight of herself in the mirror, face flushed and eyes dark with panic. Her pale blue gown was a lovely, bare-shouldered creation that moved around her like a rain cloud, the corset squeezing her waist and pushing her breasts promisingly over the delicate neckline. She felt like a cake, dressed and decorated for someone’s birthday.

She wondered when her husband was born, and if he was a happy child. She knew next to nothing about the man she was bound to, and cursed herself for whiling the past few months away. 

* * *

When he entered their chambers still in his black armor, his cape dusty from the road, Rose is struck by the realization that she had prayed he wouldn’t return - not that he would die, per se, but somehow become one with the wilds and depart from the humdrum of courtly life. He had that air about him, of someone at odds with the world.

Storm Tico bowed deeply, and murmured a polite greeting before slipping out of the room.

Remembering herself, Rose quickly dipped into a curtsey, giving him his new title. “My lord.”

Kylo’s black-gloved hand raised her up by the chin. A new scar ran down the left side of his face, above his eye, across his cheek. It was a fearsome, yet mournful sight. 

All the pretty words of praise she’d practiced evaporated on her tongue. When in doubt, as always Rose sprang into action. His left gauntlet hung askew, so she untied the strings and pulled it free, then moved to the other one.

“We have servants for that, you know,” he said, though he made no move to stop her. She moved quickly around him, a bird around a tree. She’d done this for her father, many years ago. He had called her “little Rosie” and praised her nimble fingers. The memory steadied her now as she worked, finding the clasps and ties. She needed Kylo’s help lifting the breastplate and pauldrons, and her hands came away stained with grime and dried blood.

He watched her, gauging her reaction. Rose quickly schooled her face, some of her rote words returning. “I am happy to serve you, husband.”

Kylo’s mouth quirked, and he caught one of her dangling hair-jewels between his fingers. “I reek like an ox,” he said. “I need a bath.”

“I’ll have the servants draw you one,” she said, watching him lift the mail shirt over his head. 

“Will you join me, wife?” he asked, eyes barbed with cruel amusement. Only, the cruelty seemed double-edged. She couldn’t understand him at all. He could crush her between his thumbs. Maybe he was like a cat, and enjoyed playing with his food.

“If you wish,” she said, lowering her eyes the way her grandmother showed her. 

“Don’t.”

He sighed at her confusion. “It doesn’t suit you.”

Embarrassed, Rose hurried past him and called the servants at the door, ordering his bath. Soon they were trooping in and out of the chamber, bringing first a large metal tub, then slowly, buckets of heated water, soap and oils. Grateful for a task she could perform, she instructed them to and fro. A bold idea hatched in her mind as two men put a wicker dressing screen around the steaming tub. People were relying on her, her grandfather, their subjects back home in Hays Minor. She couldn’t offer Paige’s coquettish charm, but she could perform something practical, useful.

“That will be all,” she dismissed the attendants. They glanced at her doubtfully but she stood her ground, chin uplifted. Behind the screen, she heard the quiet splash of Kylo settling into the bath. She picked up the bowl of soap and fresh rags. 

She’d bathed a horse before. How different could a man be?

* * *

The look on Lord Ren’s face when she appeared with soap was a sight Rose wished she could savor. 

“Where are the servants?” he inquired, watching her bustle around.

“I sent them away, milord,” she said. 

He grunted something that sounded like “Good.”

Rose snuck a glance at her husband. His ungainly frame barely fit in the copper basin, but most of him was covered in water and shadow. Her eyes travelled up his broad chest, the faint riverine scars, and heat rose in her cheeks.

She knelt beside him with the tray of soap. Her dress crinkled and pinched, but she suffered through. It was only when his eyes, opening lazily, fell past her face she realized that, in this new position, her breasts were practically spilling out of her bodice.

She had been looking at his torso earlier, so she supposed fair was fair. Still, her ears flamed as she edged closer, holding out the tray.

When he’d finished soaping himself, Rose pushed back her sleeves and dipped a small copper in a bucket of fresh water. “May I?”

She poured water over his head, his shoulders, his chest, sluicing the soap away. The swirls of foam relaxed her, made her feel useful. She was so engrossed in her task she didn’t notice him watching her.

She froze when a large, warm hand cupped her cheek. Kylo Ren drew her lips to his. His kiss was shockingly gentle. Curious, coaxing. She reeled from the heady taste of his mouth, rich, sharp and intimate. The fingers of his other hand traced her throat and she shivered. He tightened his hold, dipping his thumb down the lush curve of her cleavage. His tongue replaced his fingers, and he licked the water clean. She felt like an apple between his hands, something his teeth itched for. Her thighs pressed together as a foreign heat flared between them. He paused at the hollow of her throat and, as though thinking better of it, released her with a kiss to her flickering pulse.

Rose, flustered and warm, retrieved the floating pitcher. It had slipped from her fingers when he kissed her.

“Are you fond of your grandfather?”

Her hand stilled briefly. “He’s like a father to me.”

Kylo’s sudden, intent gaze unsettled her. She was about to empty more water over his shoulders when he grasped her elbow, eyes traveling up her bare forearm to the faint discoloration around her wrist where Storm Tico had pressed it hard enough to bruise. 

Rose gave a small smile. “How clumsy of me. I must have knocked it on my dresser. ”

She didn’t trust herself to say anything more. Her breath still came quick and fast. Nothing she’d been taught had prepared her for this untoward closeness, this stinging exposure. 

“You’re a terrible liar, wife.” 

Kylo freed her arm, watching pink bloom in her cheeks. She rose hurriedly to her feet, mumbling about seeing to his supper. She was grateful he offered no objection as she hastened away.

Her thoughts scattered every which way, her skin burned where his mouth had been, and Rose couldn’t shake the single, fevered moment when she’d almost touched her husband’s dark hair.

* * *

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thirst is an amazing motivator, WHO KNEW.

The porridge was delicious, thick and creamy and glistening with butterfat, but Rose ate little. She was saving herself for the plate of strawberries glistening at the center of the table, fresh-picked that morning.

It would be impolite to reach for them until the other diners, her husband and her grandfather, had finished their breakfast.

They were dining in her new receiving chambers in the western wing. The estate that Kylo had received with his new title was not yet ready for occupation, but in the meantime she and her new husband were moved to a suite of airy, spacious rooms in the citadel. Both she and Kylo had their own sleeping quarters, joined by a shared bedchamber, and receiving rooms where they could meet with guests. The weeks after Kylo’s return had been swamped with moving their belongings to the new residence, and Storm Tico had found it difficult to meet with his granddaughter.

Rose could tell from her grandfather’s manner that he was impatient. As a married woman, it was custom that any man who desired an audience with her first consult her husband. Most nobles waived this requirement for blood family, but Lord Ren had declared, in his quiet, intractable way, that he would prefer to oversee such requests in her case. 

She snuck careful glances at her husband, who was enjoying the hearty breakfast but saying little, despite Storm’s many attempts to engage him in conversation. He seemed to especially relish the roast pheasant she had ordered for their meal in foreknowledge of his horse-like appetite. She was relieved and pleased - over the past weeks she had learned she enjoyed organizing little details about their new household. After a lifetime of living in her family’s shadow, these small repsonsibilities gave her a measure of control.

Her budding good mood wilted when a servant approached the table with a message for Kylo that called him away. Rose made to stand with him, but Kylo shook his head. “Enjoy your breakfast,” he said. He unexpectedly kissed the back of her hand, making her blush. As he left, he gave her grandfather an odd look.

The air changed as soon as the door closed behind him.

“Well,” Storm said. “Let me not waste time, my dear, since you have so little of it these days.”

She tensed, knowing what he was about to ask.

“Have you spoken to Lord Ren about my request?”

“It’s been a busy fortnight. The new recruits arrived three days ago and-,” she jumped, her spoon clattering in her bowl. The wooden table reverberated from the thud of Storm’s hand.

“Enough excuses, girl,” he said, in the cold, commanding voice that struck terror into her heart as a child. “I informed you of my request weeks ago, as soon as we had word of your husband’s new title.”

“I’m aware, grandfather, but -,”

“If I am to gain a council seat, I need his approval, as well as -,”  
  
“Twelve other lords, yes I know how the elections work -,”

“Clearly you don’t,” he snapped, “if you are incapable of completing a simple request. Have you no care for securing our future? The future of Hays Minor? How many times must I tell you the same, vital information before it penetrates your thick skull?”

“Grandfather, please,” she whispered, imploring him with her eyes. The servants were discreet enough, but one could never be too careful. Her inability to manage the situation pierced her with keen embarrassment.

“You know how much I have done for you, for your ungrateful sister. How much your grandmother and I have sacrificed. Would you throw all that away?”

“No, of course not,” she said, her chest tightening with every breath as Storm’s tirade continued. It wasn’t her fault that Paige had absconded with a commoner, leaving her sister to fill her beautiful shoes. Her marriage to Lord Ren was still unconsummated, and though Rose was grateful that he didn’t force himself as the laws of Yavin enabled, she couldn’t help but feel precarious and inadequate in her position. How could she ask her husband for favors on Storm’s behalf, when he had yet to avail himself of his basic right to her? Words she could never say clogged her throat until she thought it would burst, and her eyes burned with unshed tears.

Storm’s face changed, growing smooth and cordial again. Rose half-believed he had taken pity on her, when she heard her husband re-enter the room. She wiped hastily at her eyes. 

Kylo looked between her and Storm, his face hardening. “I think I would like to be alone with my wife, Tico.”

The informal address didn’t escape Rose, but she didn’t dare look at her grandfather as he swept coolly from the room. She was already humiliated enough.

When they were alone, Kylo returned to his seat across from her and resumed his meal. Mercifully, he kept his thoughts to himself while she composed herself and dashed the stray tears away. She wondered if her husband was displeased by her state - no doubt he had little patience for her childish inability to stand her ground against her grandfather.

Nevertheless, she was grateful for the silence in which they finished their breakfast. 

“By the way,” Kylo said, pushing his plate away. “My sister is paying us a visit.”

“I didn’t know you had a sister,” Rose blurted, then felt instantly foolish. She reached for some water. “She doesn’t reside at court?”

Kylo seemed to find her question amusing. “Rey is hardly suited to courtly life, though I’ve suggested it often enough.”

Bewildered, Rose managed a small smile. “I’ll have chambers prepared for her.”

He leaned forward with a long arm and pushed the platter of strawberries down the table so they stopped a few inches from her plate. “Never cared for them,” he said, watching her try and fail to contain her surprise. Turning in his chair he gestured for a servant who brought him a stack of papers. While he busied himself with the day’s letters, Rose feasted. The berries were tart and sweet and delicious as a summer morning, even more delectable enjoyed away from Storm Tico’s hawk-eyed gaze. She felt like a child savoring a stolen delight. Sensing her husband’s gaze on her, she realized she’d been making quiet noises of enjoyment. Kylo’s eyes were dark, watching her with strange intensity. She blushed, thinking her manners offended him. 

Standing abruptly, he picked up the sheaf of papers and strode towards his own chambers.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh noooo, why did he storm off to his chambers when Rosie was moaning over some strawberries? D: Lol future installments should be longer, I think. I'm actually super excited for Rey and Kylo sibling hours and Rose navigating courtly life, and the ever present question of The Consummation. Glad y'all are enjoying this as much as I am! xx


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hola! I hope everyone is staying safe and healthy. Thank you for your enthusiasm for this frothy AU <3

For the first time since she arrived at the Court of the Sith, Rose was beginning to feel like her clothes were an expression of her personal taste rather than a masquerade of her runaway sister.

As a married woman she was finally able to purchase fabric and order their tailoring without Storm breathing down her neck or Etta fretting about suitability. When she still lived with them, Paige had the first pick of any new clothing while Rose implicitly accepted that her sister’s wardrobe took precedence over her own. Besides, her clothes being cheaper and less carefully made meant she felt less guilty when mud flying from Dorian’s hooves splattered her skirt, or when, walking across the pond to pick blackberries she dragged her petticoats in moss.

But as Lady Rose, wife of Lord Ren, she was expected to dress in a manner that reflected her station. No more cheaply dyed wool or tartan, and if she mounted a horse it was strictly side-saddle, her skirts trailing modestly over her legs. These restrictions however came with a few new freedoms: namely, control over her wardrobe. She had ordered new dresses for the spring to coincide with Kylo’s sister’s visit - she still found her husband mystifying in many ways, but she hoped that playing a gracious hostess to his sister would demonstrate her desire to be a good wife in ways that compensated for her inadequacies in other areas.

Kylo’s sister was expected to arrive today in the afternoon and Rose had fretted over selecting a variety of lunch dishes she thought the lady might appreciate. She was also wearing one of her new dresses, pale green linen that parted in front to show a white petticoat embroidered in a pattern of wildflowers. The sleeves brushed the floor, but split at the elbows so her arms enjoyed freedom of movement. Her hair fell over one shoulder in a tight, glossy braid. On a whim, she’d affixed a sprig of lilac behind her ear.

As she walked to the courtyard to join her husband, her steps felt lighter, her mood easier than it had been in months. Guiltily she realized the levity was due to the fact that she hadn’t seen Storm Tico since that breakfast weeks ago. She presumed he was busy preparing for the council elections, for he had made no further attempt to press her. Still, it was unusual for him, and she had a suspicion Lord Ren had some hand in her grandfather staying away. She would have to broach the topic with Kylo at some point - Storm was harsh and selfish but he was still the only father she had. She couldn't imagine never seeing him.

Spring was steadily advancing over Yavin and the courtyard was bright and airy as she came down the steps. Kylo, conversing with one of the younger knights, looked up at the sound of her footfall and a faint smile crossed his somber face. 

“Milord,” she said when she had reached him. 

His eyes slid over her and she flushed. The knight bowed politely to her before walking away, leaving her and her husband alone. Kylo was dressed in his signature dark colors, but a tunic and well-turned breeches instead of armor or mail. A long dark overcoat swept the floor around his ankles, hiding his sword-belt from view. His black hair waved around his moody, heavy-jawed face. Rose craned her neck and offered him a hesitant smile. He pressed the lilac in her braid between his thumb and forefinger, seemingly caught in an internal battle - a look he often seemed to wear around her. She found it confusing at best. It had been months since their wedding and their marriage was still unconsummated, yet he evinced no desire to pursue annulment or divorce. For a moment she thought he might lean down to kiss her, but he dropped his hand and took a step back. “You look well,” he mumbled.

“Thank you,” she said, a strange disappointment welling up inside her. 

She was about to make some harmless remark on the weather to interrupt the heavy silence that seemed to always gather too easily between them when the sound of hooves caught both their attention. A lithe brown horse packed with weather-beaten saddlebags and a dusty, well-worn saddle, ridden by a slender young man in grey travel clothes, cantered to a stop in the center of the courtyard. The rider, no doubt a messenger or page, slid easily off the horse before the animal came to a complete stop, scanning the area as though in search of someone they knew.

Astonished, Rose watched as her husband strode towards the stranger who then jumped into his arms with a happy shout. As Kylo embraced the rider, the latter’s hat fell off revealing messily tied brown hair and a beaming face smeared with dust and sunburn and freckles. Kylo and his sister grasped each other’s arms like two soldiers meeting in a time of peace for whom the memory of war sweetens their reunion. 

“Rey,” Kylo said, once they drew apart, “allow me to introduce -,”

“Are  _ you _ Rose?” was all Rose heard before her sister-in-law seized her in a sweaty, bone-crushing, embrace that lifted her off her feet. “It’s LOVELY to meet you!” Rey practically shouted in her ear.

A little bemused by Rey’s enthusiasm and the manner of her arrival, Rose dropped a small curtsey,“Likewise, Lady R-,”

Rey’s hoot of laughter swallowed the greeting. Rose looked between the siblings, thinking she had done something wrong. “Please,” Rey said, with a bright, cheerful, entirely infectious smile. “It’s just Rey. Ben’s the one with all the fancy titles.”

Rose blinked in surprise. “Ben?”

“Oh sorry,” Rey rolled her eyes, winking at her brother. “It’s Kylo now. Forgive me, your most excellent highness.” She made an exaggerated bow while Kylo huffed then turned her attention back to Rose. 

“Ben, your letters didn’t mention your wife is an  _ actual _ fairy,” Rey exclaimed, taking Rose’s hands in here. “Look at her! I could fit her in my pocket.”

This was said with so much true-hearted delight that Rose couldn’t help but smile. Rey was nothing like she had imagined. 

“If you’re hungry, we can have lunch brought up,” Rose offered. “Or if you wish to bathe-,”

Rey squeezed her hands. “Lunch would be wonderful. I’m starving.” She took Rose by the elbow and started leading her up the stairs. “I want to know all about you. Ben says you’re from Hays Minor - I travelled there once, beautiful plains.” 

* * *

At lunch, Rose realized why Kylo had suppressed a laugh last week when she showed him the chambers she’d had prepared for Rey. They had once belonged to Lady Isobel, a duke’s daughter, and overlooked the lake and blossoming cherry trees. The walls were painted in feminine blue and the bedspread, curtains and rug were all edged with lace to produce an effect both genteel and lavish. Rose had thought them perfect for her sister-in-law and was dismayed by Kylo’s reaction. But, as she watched Rey tear ravenously into a piece of mutton, one foot resting on her chair, food smeared around her mouth, she almost wanted to laugh herself. She knew now what her husband meant when he said Rey was unsuited to courtly life. Rose couldn’t imagine her preening in a silk dress and demurring to noblemen.

Perhaps exactly for this reason, she was happy her sister-in-law had decided to visit, and seized with curiosity about Kylo’s life before he joined the Sith Court, when he was “Ben”.

“You should’ve seen him back in Jakku,” Rey said, her eyes dancing. “Gangly as a beanpole, and whining all the time. ‘Give me back my sword, Rey’ ‘Rey, those are my dumplings’ -,”   
  
“I think she gets the picture,” Kylo said, clearing his throat.

Rose couldn’t contain her bubbling giggles. The idea of her stern, hulking husband as a scrawny older brother complaining about his younger sibling was so incongruous as to be utterly amusing. Rey was full of such amusing anecdotes, but stolen amid the tales of sibling misadventure Rose could sense shards of hardship and suffering and the shadow of a cruel guardian.

“Oh! And then there was the time we got into Unkar’s opium-,”

Rose gave a questioning look.

“Unkar Platt,” Kylo said, his smile fading a little. “A slaver by trade, though when we knew him he had retired to run a metal workshop in Jakku’s merchant quarter.”

Rose digested this information quietly, then frowned. “I don’t understand. Did your parents wish you to learn the metal trade?”

Kylo’s face was unreadable, while Rey’s looked regretful. “We were sold to him.”   


“Sold!” Rose gasped. “By who?”

Kylo and Rey exchanged a look, and Rey shrugged. Kylo looked at Rose. “When our parents died we were left in the care of a guardian. Suffice it to say, they put their trust in the wrong people.”

“They sold you to Unkar,” Rose surmised.

Rey nodded. “We were worth more to Unkar as labor, so he kept us. We worked at his shop, grew his food, cleaned his privy, entertained his guests.” A faint shadow flickered in her eyes. “Things you use slaves for.”

“But you were children!” Rose burst out. Seeing the look of surprise on Kylo’s face she attempted to school her anger, but it bubbled under the surface of her skin. Yavin and their neighboring kingdoms had outlawed slavery before she was born, but many of the Outer Rim provinces still traded in human beings, and Rose had occasionally heard noblemen friends of her grandfather remark on the easy days of buying and owning servants rather than paying them wages. But one of the few memories she had of her parents was her mother taking her and Paige to bring food to a family of former slaves who had escaped the Hutts. Rose still remembered the children who looked too hungry and frightened to cry.

“It was a long time ago,” Rey said, with a rueful smile.“I’m sorry. It’s not exactly a pleasant topic for lunch.”

Rose shook her head. “There’s no need to apologize. I’m glad that you had each other, at least.”

“He was tolerable I suppose, when he wasn’t whining,” Rey said, shooting her brother an affectionate smirk.

Kylo gave a long suffering sigh, reaching for his goblet only to find it empty. Rose, having sent the servants away so they might enjoy a private meal, stood and grasped the wine pitcher to refill everyone’s cups. As she hovered by Kylo’s shoulder and poured out the wine, he watched her in his brooding way, eyes flickering up the slender line of her arm to the fullness of her breasts nested prettily in the flowered bodice. She suddenly recalled her nervous ministrations on their wedding night, the spilled wine and his large hand encircling hers. The intimacy of what they shared and didn’t share. His dizzying scrutiny made her flush, and Rey’s snort of laughter only intensified her embarrassment as she returned to her seat.

* * *

Rey was delighted by her elegantly appointed chambers. “Aww look at that bed. I haven’t slept in a real bed in months.”

Rose started in alarm. “Where have you been sleeping?”

“On top of my horse mostly,” Rey said. The metal utensils strung together on the back of one of her knapsacks clattered as she set down her sparse luggage. “Speaking of which, I should water Nyla soon -,”

“I’ll speak to the stablemaster, she’ll be in good hands,” Rose said. “You should rest.”  
  
“You really are absolutely magical,” Rey beamed. “No wonder Ben’s so taken.”

Rose blinked, unsure she had heard Rey correctly, and took her leave after ensuring her sister-in-law had everything she needed. 

* * *

_ No wonder Ben’s so taken. _

Rose liked to walk around the castle grounds at this time of day, between afternoon and dusk, but despite the fresh air and sunny sky she was preoccupied by Rey’s words, turning them over and over in her mind. The idea of Kylo harboring such feelings towards her caused an anxious flutter in her stomach. She had almost no experience to speak of when it came to men, notwithstanding a few youthful infatuations that almost always culminated in them declaring their love for Paige. 

Her first kiss was at fourteen, during a midsummer festival when a young squire she’d danced with, emboldened by the free-flowing wine, had planted a wet, groping kiss on her before stumbling away. The second, a scholar friend of Storm whom Rose instantly found attractive for his quiet eloquence and urbane charm, spent months making moon-eyes at Paige while Rose swallowed her adolescent anguish in silence. She had become his confidant, the deliverer of his ardent missives to her sister. When at last Paige rejected him openly, it was Rose who went to him with words of comfort. That was when he had kissed her, impulsively and fiercely. Rose had been confused, giddy, starry-eyed - until the next time she saw him and he behaved as though the kiss had never happened, and rebuffed her when she tried to engage him in conversation.

Kylo was no fumbling squire, nor a self-absorbed scholar - he was, in fact, nothing like the aristocratic men she had grown up with and expected to one day marry. He was blunt and rough, with unpolished manners, and utterly disinterested in the games of courtly intrigue men like her grandfather trafficked in. But when it came to training the Knights and managing the Praetorian Guard, or conferring with the Emperor on military strategy, he displayed a breathtaking exactitude. His men respected him, and since his ascension to Lord Commander the nobles vied for his favor. And while his looks didn’t favor the knightly ideal, Rose had observed the way women and men directed curious, often appreciative glances at his imposing physique. She was certain he could bed any number of women more seductive and accomplished than she. The idea that such a man harbored a deep-seated attraction to her was laughable, surely.

Her thoughts often strayed to the day of his return from the Hutt campaign, when he had kissed her so suddenly, and licked water from her neck like he couldn’t stop himself. She still couldn’t understand that burst of heavy fervor, and as weeks went by without him trying to claim his marital rights she put that kiss down to undifferentiated lust that had nothing to do with her. Isn’t that what all the manuals on wifely conduct said? That men were led by base desires over which they had little control?

This was where her careful reasoning inevitably broke down. If men’s natures were as her grandmother had said, Kylo should have ignored her fear and forced himself on her the moment he entered the bridal chamber. She’d heard her share of stories of wives brutalized by their husbands within hours of the wedding contract being signed. Additionally, if Kylo was “taken” by her as his sister claimed, surely he would have made further amorous advances after that one kiss? 

No matter how much she tried, Rose couldn’t make sense of her situation, and always returned to the lessons of her youth - that she inspired neither lust nor adoration, but was fated to amble along in perpetual insignificance.

As for what Rey had said - Rose decided her sister in law was simply mistaken, and perhaps knew even less about men than she did.

* * *

The stablemaster bristled at having a woman ask about his charges, but Rose held firm. This was one area in which she felt confident holding her own. Dusk was falling and the man was eager to finish with his day, so he carried out her instructions before shuffling off.

Rose lingered there in the gathering dusk. The Emperor’s stables were vast and rich, easily putting her grandfather’s in Hays Minor to shame. How many horses did the Emperor keep? How were they selected? Lifting up her skirts, she approached Rey’s hardy but travel-beaten creature in its modest stall. Back home on Hays Minor she never visited the stables without a purse full of sugar cubes. Dorian would flick his tail when he sighted her and try to coax more sugar by nudging her hand with his wet, warm nose. She wondered with a pinch in her chest if anyone fed him sugar cubes now.

Rey’s horse Nyla was a sand-colored mare with calm, dark eyes and a brown mane, slender and fleet-footed but enduring. She whickered at Rose’s approach and stamped her hoofs, which Rose recognized as a gesture of impatience. She clearly hated the small space she was confined to - judging by Rey’s stories, she and the horse were both used to sleeping under the open sky, when they slept at all.

“You’re Nyla, hmm?” Rose asked softly, putting out her hand. “Maybe we can find you a bigger stall tomorrow.” The mare nosed her palm eagerly and, finding no food there, gave her a look of betrayal. Rose laughed, standing on tiptoe to pat the animal’s neck.

“She likes you.”

She turned at the sound of Kylo’s voice. He had clearly been looking for her and decided to observe her for a few moments.

“She’s beautiful,” Rose said, wistfulness and admiration mingling in her voice. “A Jakku runner, isn’t she?”

He gave her a curious look. “How can you tell?”

“The shape of her head,” Rose said, surprised by his question. “How high her tail sits. And look at her back - it’s wide but short. That’s what gives Jakku runners their endurance,” she said, turning back to the horse who, seemingly pleased by the conversation, nuzzled her empty hand, causing Rose to smile. “They’re also one of the most cooperative breeds that exist.”

Kylo leaned against the stall, arms crossed over his broad chest as he watched her. She grew aware of his scrutiny and felt suddenly shy. Blathering on about horses was hardly recommended in the treatises on wifely conduct Etta had forced her to read before the marriage, but somehow her husband didn’t seem to mind.

He pushed away from the stall and drew closer to her, letting the mare sniff his hand. “Have you been to the Imperial Races on Jakku?”

Rose shook her head with a sigh, then her eyes widened with interest. “Have you?”

“Unkar would sell his wares at the track. It was my job to push the cart and guard the merchandise, and Rey’s to peddle them,” Kylo said. “If we sold the day’s allotment he let us steal into the lower ring and catch a glimpse of the race.”

This picture of his youth, so different from hers, nevertheless pinched with an odd, bittersweet familiarity when she realized she missed Paige. Rose stroked Nyla’s nose and watched her eyes grow lazy. “What was it like?”

“Loud,” he said, a smile creeping from the corner of his mouth when she laughed. 

“Before he died, my father promised to take me,” Rose said. “For a while I hoped maybe my grandfather would...but he wasn’t much interested in horse racing.”

“I’ll take you, if you like,” Kylo said.

Rose flushed, unable to contain the excitement dawning on her face. 

“I’ll speak with the Emperor,” Kylo said. “Now that the Hutts are under control he might spare me a few weeks.”

“I would like that. Very much,” she said, overcome, and unsure how to react. 

Rose continued petting Nyla.  “I didn’t know you were enslaved as a child,” she said, quietly.

“It was another life,” he said. “Ben the slave died in Jakku with Unkar Platt, and Kylo Ren took his place.”

Rose considered this reasoning. “You killed Unkar, didn’t you?”

“There was no other way.” 

He was watching her closely again, as if he could catch her flickering thoughts like fireflies. 

“I understand,” she said. “I’m glad you did,” she added with a touch of fierceness. She told him the story of accompanying her mother to see the escaped slaves. 

“How did she die?” he asked about her mother, running a hand over Nyla’s mane. 

“Plague,” Rose said. “She fell ill first, father sent me and my sister to stay with our grandparents until she recovered. She never did. They died together.”

Kylo said nothing, but he didn’t need to. There was something in his silence Rose found respectful and comforting as they stood there half-shadowed, half-lit in the sunlight of a late afternoon.

“Did your grandfather own horses?” he asked after a while.

“Several,” Rose said, remembering when she’d discovered Dorian was gone. “But he sold them before we came to court for the wedding.” She hesitated, for deep down she believed Storm had sold the horses not for any practical reason but rather to crush her spirit and remind her of the role she must now assume. It was cruel, but the only way her grandfather knew how to earn filial loyalty.

A sombre had mood filled the air between them. Rose couldn’t understand why - she had answered as honestly as she could.

* * *

Their dinner with the Emperor was a quiet affair.

No matter how many times she had seen him at court, the gouty old man with his marred face and sharp, darting eyes unsettled Rose. His manners were cultured, his mind sharp, and he gave a pleased grin to see her seated beside his favored knight. Snoke’s ravaged appearance never seemed to trouble her husband, who conversed with the Emperor on topics ranging from training the newer knights to the quality of this season’s wine imports.

Rey, whose visit had been the cause for the Emperor’s invitation, sat across from Rose and seemed just as uncomfortable with the old man. Her sister-in-law still wore men’s clothes, but had traded her travel-worn cape and trousers for a fresh white tunic under a green leather jerkin. She gave Rose an empathetic glance as Snoke droned on about taxation in the western provinces.

By the time they took their leave of the Emperor, Rose was barely stifling her yawns. She wished Rey a goodnight and retreated to her chambers - Kylo gave a short nod that she couldn’t interpret. He had been avoiding her eyes all evening since their conversation in the stable, and as always she was left wondering if she had transgressed the edicts of her role.

Rose slept fitfully, and awoke with a pang of hunger. She could never eat much in the Emperor’s presence and now her stomach cramped with a stubborn urgency. Not desiring to rouse the servants so late, she decided to retrieve the small box of toffee she had left on the desk in her receiving room the previous day. Draping her shawl over her shoulders she stepped softly into the adjoining room, which was dark save for the light spilling from the cracked-open door that led to Kylo’s own receiving room. She heard voices, him and Rey conversing late into the night, no doubt having already exhausted the many carafes of wine she’d had the servants deliver earlier that evening. She was about to leave when she heard her name spoken.

She froze, toffee-box gripped in her hand. Common sense dictated she return to bed, but a more treacherous instinct persisted. Setting down the box, she approached the door on quiet feet and bent her ear.

“I don’t understand,” Rey was saying. “I see the way you look at her, Ben.”

“I want to,” Kylo said, his voice heavy. “Sometimes I lie awake, knowing she’s only a few steps away -,” the rest of his words were inaudible. 

Rose, her ear burning, was rooted to the spot.

“You’re being a huge idiot, if you ask me.”

There was a shuffling sound, and the sound of wine being poured. “I thought this would be simple.”

“What on earth did you think was simple about marrying a stranger?”

Kylo made an impatient sound. “That’s the way of court marriages - they’re alliances forged between parties of mutual interest, a bargain, a treaty. Simple.”

Rey was silent, and Kylo continued. “When the Emperor approved the match, I sent a letter to Storm Tico inquiring about my future bride.”

“And..?”

“He lied.” 

Kylo continued. “Suffice it to say I was expecting a wife much different than the one I married.”

Rose didn’t hear Rey’s reply, for a dull roar filled her ears, echoing throughout her head and pushing hot tears from her eyes. She hurried back to her own bed and dove under the covers. 

She couldn’t help but think of stormy nights from her childhood and stealing into Paige’s bed for comfort, how grateful she had been for her sister’s generosity. She had made peace long ago with being her sister’s shadow, the plainer Tico girl, the fumbling child who only made Paige appear even more beautiful to people who saw them together. The moon to her sun, content with reflecting a greater radiance. But these placid concessions brought no more comfort, for Kylo’s words made clear she would forever be tethered to a reminder of her sister’s superiority. Not just her pride, but her heart stung, and she muffled her tears in her pillow.

  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Before anyone asks, no Kylo and Rose will not be engaging in pony-play - there's just a lot of horse info in this fic LOL. But forreal, being a mechanic isn't quite realistic for a woman of her social station so I thought Rose being a horse-nerd was a fitting substitute. I'm excited for next chapter cuz there's more angst and eventual hanky-panky. Also, how much do you love grubby lesbian Rey? She is now my baby.


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy (early) birthday to my dear friend, that kylose luminary thefudge! Hope this little slice of Kylose is a nice treat for your solar return <3

The harsh clang of metal echoing from the training grounds is familiar to Rose on her walks. Despite his new title her husband still found time to train and drill his Knights as well as test new recruits who wanted to join. She watched him duel with a recruit from Coruscant, a fiery young man who moved with quicksilver grace. But while the younger Knight danced lightly around Kylo in a show of playful camaraderie, the Lord Commander was unrelenting. His stance never wavered, his movements heavy and brutal, more a woodcutter than a swordsman. Kylo disarmed his opponent with a sudden blow. While the Knight clambered slowly to his feet, Kylo stalked to the other end of the field where his squire waited with fresh swords. Rose watched him select a new blade, another broadsword, and swing it easily overhead. The weapons were usually blunted for training, but in his large hands, and with that look of blank concentration on his face, Rose wasn’t so certain. 

By the looks of the other Knights gathered for training, neither were they.

“Next,” he called out, and after a long pause another recruit stepped forward. Kylo dispatched him swiftly.

“Someone’s in a mood,” Rey said, coming to stand beside Rose. Dressed in her usual tunic and trousers Rey happily munched on a green apple and gestured at her brother who was currently swinging his weapon at a retreating opponent. “I think it has to do with you,” Rey said, casually.

Rose flinched, then pretended to adjust the ribbon on her sleeve. “I don’t know what you mean.”

Rey laughed. “You’re as bad as he is.”

“I doubt that,” Rose muttered, without meaning to. She blushed, about to repudiate her words when they both turned at the sound of a body thudding to the ground - Kylo had swept the legs out from under his latest opponent and the man now lay groaning on the grass. Rose watched her husband’s tall, hulking figure stride to the squire’s bench and pick up another heavy sword. He held it out the length of his arm, assessing the blade’s balance, his eyes grim with focus. His tunic clung, sweat-soaked, to the broad planes of his chest and back. Sweat dripped from his hair, yet his expression was stone. Rose had been distant with him since she overheard his remarks to Rey, but she hadn’t imagined she could have such a palpable effect on his mood. As though sensing her gaze, Kylo’s eyes flashed to hers, dark and tempestuous. She felt his anger and frustration, his need for release. Her pride was still hurt, she was still angry, and she hated that he was the cause. She didn’t want to care what he thought about her. She wanted to do her duty and fulfil the role she’d been thrust into. Wasn’t it enough he already held sway over every aspect of her existence, but he must insult her to his sister too? Rose looked forcefully away, her eyes burning and her face hot. 

“I know Ben can be churlish,” Rey said. “Hard-headed, surly, annoying...but, there’s another side to him. A gentle, generous one.”

Rose stayed silent, studying the grass with great interest. She thought of their wedding knight and his blood on her nightgown instead of hers. On the field, Kylo’s powerful arms swung a sword at his opponent. She had started to think his actions - or lack thereof - on their wedding night were an example of the gentleness Rey spoke of, but after what she heard the other night - perhaps he simply found her repulsive. Confusion cloaked her spirits again.

Rey’s bright eyes searching Rose’s face. She wore a look of sympathy that Rose could not understand. 

“Ben and I lost our innocence too early,” she said, with a quiet smile. “We had no choice, you see. It’s hard, after the life we’ve lived, to care about people. To let anyone get too close. Why do you think I never stay too long in one place?”

Rose considered this against the small, sheltered world of her own childhood, where caring was duty, and duty a virtue. She looked out at the field again where Kylo, having exhausted his Knights, now slashed a wooden dummy with cruel, precise strokes. The thought of caring for him, of letting him have further power over her, was terrifying.

“Perhaps he keeps you at a distance,” Rey said, “so you might keep your innocence a little longer.”

* * *

Rey left Yavin a few days later, on a cool grey morning that dripped from the branches and beaded the castle windows with dew. Rose was pulled into another fierce hug by her sister-in-law that she returned warmly.    
  
“Come back and see us soon,” she said, and Rey gave another bright smile.

Nyla, fresh and glistening from her fortnight in the imperial stables, whinnied impatiently at her mistress, seemingly eager to be off. Rose stood beside Kylo and waved off his sister, feeling a small pinch of loneliness in her chest as Rey and Nyla disappeared beyond the palace gates. She wondered where Paige was now, if she was happy, and if she would ever see her again.

The days after Rey’s departure were marked by bouts of spring rain and the occasional thunderstorm. Rose spent most of her time indoors while Kylo stayed busy with training and meetings with the Emperor. Their meals together were mostly silent now, but the air felt oppressive, heavy like a coming storm. The fiery looks he gave her made her toes curl and set her scrambling for polite excuses to leave the room. That he never followed her brought Rose a mixture of relief and disappointment. She knew he was frustrated by her sudden coldness, but she couldn’t help her own feelings. His words had struck far deeper than she liked to think about. With dismay she realized she cared about his regard for her. She told herself it was just the fear Storm Tico had instilled in her about preserving a fortuitous marriage, but lying awake at night, hearing him go to his own chamber, her fear of failing Hays Minor and of disappointing Kylo merged into a single, confusing ache. The courtiers envied her, her handmaidens exclaimed over her new gowns and jewels, and Rose sat in the midst of it all, feeling like a fraud.

Things continued this way until the afternoon when Kylo asked her to accompany him outside. The rain had abated and a watery sunshine washed the courtyard.

“I have something for you,” Kylo said. 

Rose looked at him in surprise. He gestured to the courtyard where his squire stood, holding the reins of a beautiful palomino horse with a coat the color of summer wheat. 

Rose didn’t move until Kylo put the reins in her hands. She couldn’t remember the last time someone gave her such a gift.

“I... thank you,” she said, looking up at her husband.

"Her line is traceable to the Jakku runners,” Kylo said, “but she’s bred for Yavin’s terrain.”

“She’s beautiful.”

Kylo was watching her steadily. “Would you like to go riding?”

She hadn’t been on a horse in months, but confusion and surprise dampened some of her giddy excitement. “Very much so, milord,” she said, quietly.

Kylo squinted at the sky. “It will rain again, so it must be short.” 

She nodded.

Rose was already mounted when he emerged on his grey stallion. She hadn’t bothered to change out of her blue day dress, but had only swapped her calfskin slippers for boots. She would have preferred to ride alone and clear her thoughts, but even being accompanied by her mercurial husband couldn’t dull the thrill of a ride on a clear day. They left the palace at brisk trot, taking the path that led through the woods and emerged by the riverbank. Her new horse, Sila, was swift and sure-footed and superbly trained. As they reached the riverbank, Rose could feel her snort impatiently, eager to stretch her legs.

She shot Kylo a glance over her shoulder. “Race you to that tree!”

She only had a moment to catch the sudden surprise on his face before shooting off, bent low over Sila’s neck and urging her on, racing into the wind.

* * *

Since their wedding day, Kylo had observed and catalogued what he thought was a full picture of his diminutive wife - he knew her as kind, sheltered, naive, too forgiving of her grandfather’s overbearing cruelty, with a streak of quiet, fierce virtue. But despite his careful study, she had managed to surprise him - the first time, in the stables, when she had been heartened instead of repulsed by him killing Unkar Plutt. And now, as she raced ahead of him in a blur of gold and blue, kicking up a storm of dirt in her wake. She wasn’t simply an able horsewoman, but a gifted one, fearless, and with a natural instinct. Several times he feared her small figure would topple from the horse’s speed, only to notice when he finally edged closer that she had a firm seat and perfect grip. But these things didn’t hold his attention so much as the look of sheer, excited focus on her face - cheeks flushed, eyes glowing, hair flying wild - that he caught a tantalizing glimpse of before she sped past. 

She was waiting by the winning tree, glowing and triumphant, when he cantered up beside her.

“Not to worry, milord,” she said, with a breathless, impish smile. “I will take your defeat with me to my gra-,” her words cut off with a squeak. He had dismounted his own horse and reached for her small waist, pulling her blindly down into his arms. 

His mouth claimed hers decisively, like ending an argument. Her thoughts turned quickly fuzzy when he walked her back, against the tree she had raced him to. His body caged her in. He smelled like leather and musk and warm sweat - heavy, masculine smells to which she was little accustomed. Her small hands landed on his chest, pushing, pulling at him. The brute strength of him made her shiver. He hadn’t touched her like this since that day in the bath, and Rose found herself tentatively responding, fingers tightening on his tunic with a soft, little noise of protest. A tight, painful knot clenched deep in her lower belly with each pass of his lips. His large hands swallowed her waist, lifting her slightly against the tree as she gasped in a mixture of thrill and panic. Kylo’s eyes were dark, unfocused, and she grew aware of him hard and stiff against her skirts. 

He pressed hot, open-mouthed kisses to her neck - like he was drowning and her skin was air. She was caught between her body’s sudden, unbidden reaction to him and the rising panic of inexperience. Her fingers touched his black hair, finding it pleasantly coarse and thick, and played with it while he claimed her mouth again. A grunt of pleasure escaped him at her touch. Wild thoughts swept through her, making her nerves dance between delight and worry. They were already past the modest point of her experience. And they were outside - under a tree - surely he didn’t mean to take her here -

She’d never seen him so heavy-eyed and unflinching with lust, with the focused ferocity that won him acclaim as a knight. His large hand cupped her breast through her bodice, clouding her thoughts, dragging a savage thumb over her nipple, like striking a match. Lightheaded from trepidation and sudden, sharp pleasure, she gasped some incoherent plea against his mouth. When he stopped, she couldn’t tell if she was regretful or relieved.

  
She hid her face in his chest. The sight of his hand, still pressed hungrily to her breast, turned her legs to water. When he set her slowly on her feet she was grateful for the sturdy weight of his arms.

“Your victory was well-earned, wife,” he said.

Her body still arched towards him, and her mind was clouded. She managed a small nod against his chest and felt his hand pass over her hair, gently.

As her bearings returned, she looked him in his eyes. “What is this?” she asked, blushing.

Kylo looked at her in mild confusion.

Rose hesitated for a brief second before plunging ahead. “The night we had dinner with the Emperor...I couldn’t sleep. I overheard you talking to Rey and...,” she paused, fingers toying with the tunic lacings in the middle of his barrel chest. “You said I wasn’t the wife you expected.”

“You weren’t,” he said simply.

“Oh.”

He brushed a knuckle under her chin. “Your grandfather painted a very different picture. He knows very little about you, and even less about me.”

“That’s because he wasn’t describing me,” Rose said. “He was describing my older sister, Paige.”

His brow furrowed, a mixture of emotions flickering across his face before the corner of his mouth turned down, and his eyes grew characteristically somber. “Why did you take her place?”

“She ran away,” Rose said, face flaming. “With...our stableman.”

He laughed, a sudden, rough sound that startled her. The laugh lines transformed his face. He stepped away from her and began tethering their idle horses to a low hanging branch. “So, she’s an equestrian like yourself.”

“I was surprised, when I saw you at the wedding,” he said, securing the reins tightly. “You’re practically a child.”

“Paige is only four years my senior,” she countered, feeling defensive.

Kylo gave her a pitying look.

“I’m sure everyone appears child-like to...a giant,” she blurted. Her cheeks turned pink. She tried to remember what Rey had said, about innocence and lost youth, but she couldn’t think past her sudden, pinching anger. “If I’m a child, why did you pull me off my horse?”

He came around the horses to stand slowly before her, his height and shoulders shadowing her. 

Rose shrank into the tree but kept her gaze steadily on him. A raindrop hit her scalp and trickled down her scalp. The skies opened to a light, swift rain as they huddled under the tree.

One arm braced against the tree, he peered down at her in the dappled light. The air between them grew unbearably heavy, so much so she would have done anything to break it. It still frightened her to consider being the object of his desire - of being drawn out of the shadows she was accustomed to - but neither did she want to linger in uncertainty, holding her breath to be claimed or cast aside. She reached for his other hand - warm and rough and larger than both of hers. She put it on her breast. Before she lost her nerve, Rose surged onto her tiptoes and kissed him lightly. 

Kylo bent his head with a harsh exhale. 

Suddenly, she felt both his hands at her back, tugging at her stays. His fingers fumbled with the strings, then gave a hard tug. Her bodice loosened, slipping off her shoulders. Holding her in place, he used his free hand to push the garment to her waist, exposing the corset and soft chemise underneath.

Her breath came in quick, little puffs. She was excited and nervous and shy all at once, and could hardly look at him. He cradled her cheek, turned her mouth up to his. He kissed her slow and deep and relentless, tasting her tongue, until her head spun and she clung to him for support. 

* * *

Something gave inside him when she touched his hand to her breast. 

She smelled of sweet grass and soap and her own warm skin, felt terribly soft, terribly vital in his grasp. He pushed aside the light fabric of her chemise and cupped her breast - pleasantly and deliciously full in his hand. He didn’t want to frighten her, but he was slipping under a current of lust he had resisted for weeks.

He had expected a bride beautiful like porcelain, to enter casually into possession, to fulfil his obligations. He wasn’t prepared for this vivid, soft-faced creature in whom he sensed a kindred spark, a spirit that felt as deeply as he, but accustomed to hiding its own depths, to masking its fire. He couldn’t stay away, but the closeness was painful, too full of the possibility of disappointment, of anguish. The only family he’d ever known was Rey, and neither of them could bear each other’s company for long - there was too much pain, too many ghosts of a lost childhood crowding the room. Ghosts and ghosts and ghosts - his head was cobwebbed with them. He lifted her luscious breast into his mouth, like an apple. 

Rose bucked in surprise, small hands grasping at his shoulders. He was barely gentle. They stumbled deeper into the shadows of the tree, where the rain fell light. 

He pulled her down to the ground and licked the raindrops off her breasts. 

* * *

She was caught in a strange, wild urgency like in a net. Her husband’s tongue and teeth feasted on her breasts, his knee pushed her thighs apart. Trepidation and desire swirled around her head, making her dizzy. This was what she had wanted, to seize control over some part of her destiny. She swiftly realized how illusory that control was.

He tore her undergarments simply and easily, like he was helping himself to a second slice of supper. At her plea he glanced at her, hooded-eyes and a face so blank with concentration it sent a shiver down her spine. She wasn’t going to back down, they had come too far, and too much hung in the balance. But she wanted a sliver of something that felt familiar, and necessary. She stroked his hair, fingers tugging on the thick, dark waves while she searched for words. He looked at her through heavy lids. She couldn’t speak, couldn’t begin to dream of what she wanted to say. His eyes softened, and he moved to kiss her.

She wound her arms around his neck, pushing her exposed breasts against him. They kissed feverishly. The rough cloth of his tunic on her bare flesh was a pleasurable, unnerving shock. Between her legs, she felt the thick, hard heat of him through his breeches, his hips rocking into hers in an urgent, heated rhythm to which she found herself responding. 

Kylo stilled, searching her face. His own was both hungry and wary. The ground beneath her was hard and uneven, muddying from the rain, and the open sky through the leafy branches taunting her. 

“Rose?” Kylo said, his eyes tracking her every move, voice rough and uncertain, yet somehow also gentle. She touched his cheek, traced the scar that ran from eye to ear while his eyes tracked her every move, tugged him closer under the leaves and the rain.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know, I know - where's the rest, you cry. I really struggle with smut, so this was as far as I could go in this chapter...but maybe future chapters will be more risqué? Hope y'all enjoyed it nonetheless!

**Author's Note:**

> So here's the deal. I intended this to be a quick and dirty oneshot, a classic deflowering scenario of the "it's too big/ it's too strong/ it won't fit" variety. But I'm a clown and these two have lots of feelings, no matter how I tried I simply couldn't get them to bang in this installment without being too OOC. And believe me, a bitch tried. I do nooot have time for a new WIP rn, so I can't promise anything - but I'm thirsty and I want them to bang, so Ima maybe do some drabbles, some snapshots of their marriage and navigating Sith court politics, and eventually smut. *Ego by Beyoncé plays in the background* In the meantime, this is my first Kylose (it's criminal how little fic there is with these two!) so I'd love to know your thoughts. Stay safe and healthy everybody! xx


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